The Unseen Hand
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #73 Spock's daughter T'Beth and her family are featured in this story. In the wake of Kirk's death, the mysterious appearance of an old book leads to interesting revelations about the boyhood of T'Beth's husband, Aaron Pascal.


The bishop's touch awakened something deep inside Rose-Ellen. The Church called it a "slap", and it might well have been, considering the jolt his fingers gave her during the Confirmation rite. Afterward, the thirteen-year-old approached her sister Bethany, who was confirmed at the same ceremony.

Breathlessly Rose-Ellen asked her, "Did you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Bethany responded with a blank expression.

It was then that Rose-Ellen realized she had received a special grace, and kept silent about the burning in her heart. Though she had attended Catholic school since she came to live with the Pascal family at the age of ten, Bethany now began to delve more deeply into the faith. Most of her reading centered on St. Therese Martin, the patron she had chosen at Confirmation. It did not matter that Bethany, whose main interest was boys, sometimes made fun of her. Secretly Rose-Ellen longed for their family to be like the Martins—unified in a deep religious faith that gave purpose to every moment. They were already practicing Catholics—all except her father, who was an atheist. So naturally she focused most of her prayers on him.

oooo

Aaron winced with pain as he crawled out from beneath a layout table, where he had been securing an electrical connection for the final addition to his model railroad.

"Dad," a voice spoke, "are you okay?"

He made it to his feet and found Rose-Ellen standing nearby. He hadn't heard her enter the basement.

"Just a twinge," he said, carefully flexing his right shoulder. The recent injury was still a bit more painful than he was willing to admit.

Rose-Ellen's earnest blue eyes warmed with relief. "Can I stay and watch?"

"As long as you're quiet," he replied. It was a house rule. Silence in the basement when he was working on his layout.

Rose-Ellen settled into a chair and grew so silent that Aaron almost forgot she was there. His mind roamed free as his fingers put the finishing touches on a horse ranch nestled between two rugged plaster mountains. Jim Kirk's ranch. It was only fitting that it would occupy the very last bit of layout space. Fitting and sad, like Kirk's heroic loss. Creating this Idaho layout had become a bittersweet effort. Aaron poured himself into the work, knowing that it—like life itself—would come to an inevitable end.

 _And then what?_

Model railroading had helped him reclaim a bit of his childhood—the early years, before outside influences began to spoil the simple happiness he had shared with his grandparents, back in France. Now, his thoughts shied away from the yawning void that lurked beyond that last day when the final bits of plaster and paint would be applied. The last rock, the last grain of artificial snow adorning his perfect, imaginary world. All that would remain were the trains themselves, circling endlessly on the same tracks, going nowhere.

Aaron bent to place a tiny, crooked pine on a mountain slope. He could not stop thinking of the _Enterprise_ incident—that fateful moment when the decompression struck, taking Kirk and several others, leaving Aaron injured but alive. How narrowly he had escaped, but sooner or later, death came to everyone. It had come for his parents when he was only a baby. It had come for his grandparents who took him into their home and raised him. And now, if Kirk was not lost in Guinan's mysterious Nexus, it had come for him. Death—oblivion—all of them gone forever.

The thought gave Aaron an odd panicky feeling. _Why now?_ Hadn't he settled the matter long ago? All these years he had been quite comfortable in his atheism, but suddenly the specter of non-existence made his heart pound. If life ended at the grave, what mattered? What did any of this truly matter?

He could almost envy his wife's religious faith and the confident way she imparted it to their children. For her sake, he gave her free rein in that regard, keeping his mouth shut even when he would have liked to say, "God is nothing but a pleasant myth—so much drivel, like Santa Claus."

"Dad."

Aaron jumped at the sound of Rose-Ellen's voice. These days, his nerves were strung rather tightly. Turning, he looked at her.

"Dad," she repeated, "why didn't you come to our Confirmation ceremony?"

"I had business at Starfleet," he said easily. "You know that."

Something in her pretty face told him that she didn't believe it, that if he had really wanted to come, he could have found a way. And it was true.

"Quiet now," he reminded her and went back to his work.

oooo

After school Rose-Ellen sat propped against the pillows on her bed, thinking, as she devoured a cheese sandwich. Nearby, Bethany twisted and turned before the full-length mirror mounted on their bedroom door.

Bethany stopped to study the reflection of her shapely, jean-clad backside. Suddenly she said, "I'm fat, aren't I? Just say it."

"Don't be silly," Rose-Ellen answered. "You have a terrific figure. No wonder the boys all like you."

In a month, Bethany would be thirteen, like Rose-Ellen, but she was already more curvaceous. Rose-Ellen's Darby blood was making her shoot up like a tall, lanky tree, towering over every boy in the seventh grade. Mom said not to worry, that the boys would overtake her in high school, but Rose-Ellen wasn't worried—at least, not about boys. She had other things on her mind.

Getting up, she wandered into the living room and found their housekeeper seated with young Louis, slowly reading aloud from a little book—the real kind, made of paper. It sounded as if Hilda was reading a children's prayer. Her plump, round face glowed as she spoke in her heavy German accent.

Curious, Rose-Ellen went over and settled on the arm of the chair, where she had a clear view of the book. Its pages were worn and faded. One side had a beautiful picture of the Virgin Mary, but all the printing was in a foreign language.

Surprised, she said, "That's French, isn't it?"

Hilda glanced up. "Ja, French, like your father's native tongue."

Rose-Ellen sat quietly as Hilda thumbed through the illustrations and tried to translate some of the text. It was not like Rose-Ellen to be so bold, but suddenly she found herself saying, "Hilda…do you think I could borrow it…just for a little while? So I could show it to Dad?"

Hilda's kindly eyes studied her. Then closing the little book, she entrusted it to Rose-Ellen. "Sure, for a little vhile," she said.

Rose-Ellen had come into the Pascal family without any religious background, but it had not taken long for her to embrace the faith practiced by T'Beth and the other children. She didn't need any urging to go to Mass, or receive Holy Communion, or confess her sins to the priests. Among the family, only her father held himself apart from the sacred rituals that she found so comforting

One day last year, she had found the courage to question him. "Dad, how can you not believe in God?

But Mom overheard and immediately scolded her. "Don't bother your father about it. Faith is a very private matter."

It made Rose-Ellen wonder all the more. Didn't Aaron believe even a little bit? And now, as she studied the housekeeper's prayer book, she began to worry about showing it to him. What if he thought she was being pushy? She only wanted to hear him speak the beautiful French words and tell her what they meant. Could she help it if the text was religious?

For three days, she wavered. Soon Hilda would be asking for the book. It would have to be tonight…or never.

oooo

All too often, Aaron worked late, but Friday he arrived home on time and sat down to chicken and dumplings prepared by Hilda before she left for the weekend. Afterward, the family gathered in the living room and T'Beth proposed a game that had recently become popular. The winner of each round would demand a mental or physical challenge from the loser of their choice. If the challenge was well met, the loser gained points. Inevitably there was much laughter, and a pleasant hour passed before Rose-Ellen won.

Her blue eyes grew strangely shy as she challenged Aaron, then disappeared down the hallway. She came back carrying a small book that she opened and placed in his hands.

She said, "Read the page out loud, just the way it's written. Then translate it."

Curious, Aaron looked down. The paper of the French book had seen much use. A sense of recognition jolted him as his eyes settled on a colorful image of the Child Jesus holding a lamb.

"Go ahead, say the words," urged Rose-Ellen.

Overcoming his reluctance, he read the original French. Then haltingly he translated:

"Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me;

Bless thy little lamb tonight.

Through the darkness be Thou near me;

Keep me safe till morning light."

While the children applauded, Aaron sat frozen, acutely aware of everyone's eyes upon him. His hands trembled a little as he closed the book and found the same picture of Jesus on its scuffed cover. He made himself ease the cover open, and what he saw just inside made him rise abruptly and escape into the privacy of his bedroom.

Rose-Ellen was dismayed by her father's reaction. She should never have shown him a prayer book. Now even-tempered Aaron was angry; she was sure of it. And so was Mom.

"Where did you get that?" T'Beth demanded.

"It's Hildy's," volunteered Louis.

Rose-Ellen nodded miserably. "Hilda let me borrow it. I thought…I thought Dad might be interested, since it's in French. Honest, I didn't mean to make him mad."

Bethany spoke up. "Dad's not mad. He's not the least bit mad."

Everyone looked at her. Bethany's empathic sense could be trusted, but if Aaron wasn't angry, why was he acting so strangely?

T'Beth went down the hallway after him.

Aaron heard the bedroom door opening and did not move from the bed where he sat, head bowed, his tears hidden behind a hand. Though he had not wept in many years, there was no controlling the rush of emotion triggered by the little book in his lap.

T'Beth settled close beside him. Her hand gently touched his sore shoulder and caressed the back of his neck.

"Aaron," she said. "Darling…what is it?"

Deeply embarrassed, he gripped the book tightly and swallowed hard.

"It's Hilda's," T'Beth told him. "Rose-Ellen borrowed it. She didn't mean to upset you."

 _Hilda's?_ Struggling for control, he swiped a sleeve across his eyes and focused on the little book's cover. "Hilda," he said. "Hilda Ebert. Incredible."

"Why?" she asked. "Why is it incredible?"

Fresh tears welled as he began to tell her a story…

 _High in the French Alps, a young orphan came to live with his elderly grandparents. Life in the quaint village was simple, revolving around family and church. As the years went by, Mamá and Papá Pascal realized that their little grandson had the gift of a keen intellect. By the time he was nine years old, he had already outgrown the village schools and clearly needed another source of education to reach his full potential._

 _The village priest suggested that he attend a special boarding school in Paris, but the devoted little family did not want to be separated, so the boy stayed home and began an online learning program. On the mornings when he served Mass, he sometimes stayed afterward to pray for a better solution. Before long, a famous scholar found his way to the village and decided to retire there. His name was Hermann Dietz. With pounding heart, the boy went to the professor's door and asked if he would consider teaching him. At first Dietz was amused, but he soon discovered the boy's remarkable abilities and took a deep interest in him. Professor Dietz met with the boy's grandparents to discuss a schedule and a nominal fee. Soon the boy became a frequent visitor at the Dietz home, where he sat at the old man's knee, happily absorbing knowledge._

 _The boy turned ten. One bright spring morning, he arrived for his lesson carrying a little prayer book that had belonged to his mother. Professor Dietz grabbed the book from the boy's hands and became incensed._

 _"Vhat is this drivel?" he demanded, flipping through the pages that were so dear to the child._

 _The boy stood quaking as Dietz proceeded to humiliate him._

 _"Have you no intelligence, after all? Belief in God is the surest sign of a veak mind!" His rigid finger poked at a Biblical quotation. "Jesus said, 'Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.' Heaven! Sheer fantasy! Only a fool vould believe such rubbish! Are you a fool?"_

 _Tears wet the boy's face as Dietz hurled the precious book into the trash. The boy was too frightened to retrieve it, or tell his grandparents what had happened. He knew they would be outraged. He knew they would forbid him to come back, and he wanted so badly to learn. From that moment on, Professor Dietz worked hard to free him from "religious qualms", and it was not long before he succeeded._

…And so Aaron's tale came to an end. "It was the last I saw of my mother's prayer book until today."

T'Beth looked at him in amazement. "Are you telling me that this book…"

Nodding, he said, "It's mine. The very same book. See?" He showed her the childish scrawl just inside the front cover. "Anna Marie DeJardin—that's my mother."

"Dietz tore this book away from you! And he deliberately destroyed your faith!"

Her angry words made Aaron want to defend Professor Dietz, but he was in no mood for an argument, so he merely nodded. There was no need for him to tell her the rest of the story. She already knew that at sixteen her father had approached him on behalf of Starfleet, that Spock became his mentor and ultimately his father-in-law.

T'Beth took his hand into her own and tenderly kissed it, but there was horror in her eyes. She clearly saw Dietz as a monster. But was Dietz merely a realist? The professor's oft-repeated words rang through his mind. _What sort of God would steal a boy's parents…or send an atheist as an answer to prayer?_

Since the age of fourteen, Aaron had considered himself enlightened on all such matters. He had disdained his grandparents for their "simplistic faith". As a man he had been secretly scornful of Spock's religious conversion, yet now a shaking and shifting deep in his heart threatened all those sterile tenets instilled by Hermann Dietz in the quiet of a French mountain village.

He remembered a recent discussion with Spock. They had both agreed that the aim of science was to pursue truth. But then Spock had asserted that God was the ultimate Truth and when scientists deny His existence, their quest often degenerated into a seeking after their own cherished opinions and beliefs. They shut their eyes to any fact that pointed to an intelligent designer. When Spock had called it a form of "intellectual blindness", Aaron had experienced a stirring of anger. Now he grasped at that memory of anger and fanned it into a hot, steadying flame. It was foolish to let an old prayer book upset him. He had momentarily been overcome by nostalgia, nothing more.

T'Beth rose and went to the little phone screen on the corner desk.

Quickly Aaron asked, "What are you doing?"

Her hand worked the phone pad. "I'm calling Hilda. I want to know how she got that prayer book."

"No!" Aaron said, rising off the bed. But it was too late.

Hilda's pleasant face appeared on the screen.

"No," Aaron repeated, although he could not have said exactly why it mattered to him. So she had found the book in some curio shop. It was hers now and she was welcome to it. On Monday she would take the book home and he would put it out of his mind, along with the whole embarrassing affair.

T'Beth ignored him. "That little prayer book," she said to Hilda. "I'm curious. Where did it come from?"

The housekeeper returned T'Beth's smile. "Oh, that. A sveet little thing, ja? It was sent to my sister Bella from our Aunt Frieda in France."

"France?"

Aaron stared at the screen, his palms sweating.

Hilda nodded. "She vas a Lundberg, like me, before she married Herr Dietz. You probably never heard of him, but he vas a rather famous man in that part of the vorld. His name vas Hermann, and poor Frieda said that he despised religion. We figured the book must have come from somevhere in his family. But you know vhat? Frieda said that he embraced God on his deathbed and regretted many of the things he had said."

Dumbstruck, Aaron looked on as T'Beth thanked Hilda and ended the call. She turned in her chair and smiled at him. "Incredible! It's almost as if Hilda were our relative. Think of the odds! And your Professor Dietz changed his tune when he looked death in the face. I don't care what you say—the hand of God is in all of this.

Aaron was attempting to summon an argument when T'Beth rose and left the room. Suddenly he was all alone. His eyes lowered to the little prayer book in his hand, and the image of the Christ Child he had once found so comforting. _Could it be true? Had the brilliant Professor Dietz turned and admitted to error? Had he misled the boy, after all?_

Aaron's mind raced as he recalled the day of his wedding, when he stood in the presence of a Starfleet chaplain and vowed lifelong fidelity to T'Beth. Afterward, she had wanted to honeymoon in the land of his childhood, where her open faith in God roused disturbing memories. T'Beth had noticed, and at the shrine of Lourdes had confronted him about his religious beliefs. With a strange sense of shame, he had admitted to atheism.

Even then he had wondered—why the shame? If, in fact, God did not exist, he should declare it as dispassionately as any other scientific fact. But the existence of God could not be scientifically disproved; he had always know that. He could not with absolute certainty say, "There is no God", while all of science pointed to an unseen hand at work in every level of the universe.

But a holy God, a loving God? A God who would reveal himself in human form and offer his life as a redeeming sacrifice for fallen mankind? A God with whom one can converse? To whom one is accountable? Such a Being would demand a response from him.

Flipping the prayer book open, he came upon the words of Jesus. "Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me…I am the way, the truth, and the life…"

Something inside him stirred. Trembling, he looked back at the illustrated cover, and it was as if a brilliant light flashed on. He did not understand what was happening. This sudden insight was so far beyond his intellectual capacity that he could no longer deny the reality of a spiritual dimension. But he was no longer the innocent, impressionable boy led astray. For decades he had closed his heart to that sweet, beckoning voice. And now God was calling him to forgiveness? How he longed for the peace such forgiveness would bring, yet still he wavered.

Aaron's thoughts focused on a single sharp memory. He saw Professor Dietz demanding the prayer book, but now when the old man reached for it, the boy held the book tightly and ran out into the sunshine.

In that instant, Aaron surrendered to the Light. _Home. Home at last._ With a fresh flow of tears, he bowed his head and gave thanks for the restoration of his faith.

oooo

Things were different now. Not that Rose-Ellen thought things were bad before—far from it, but the change in Aaron had brought a new, wonderful dimension to their family. She had wanted him to know the same joy and contentment she had found, and with the turning of his heart, he assumed his rightful role of spiritual leadership. Oh, there was still plenty of time for fun, but now her father made sure that God took first place in their lives—not only at Sunday Mass, but each and every day.

When Hilda heard the story of the prayer book, she insisted that Aaron keep it. Sometimes Rose-Ellen or Bethany or Louis would beg him to bring it out and tell them about life in the Alpine village with Mamá and Papá and poor Professor Dietz.

Life was good for Rose-Ellen, and she did not know how it could possibly get any better until the summer day when Aaron called the family together.

His gentle eyes shone as he said, "Listen, everyone, your mother and I have an important announcement."

Mom smiled at him warmly. Holding his hand, she said to the children, "There's going to be a new addition to our family."

Louis jumped with delight. "A dog? Are we getting a dog?"

Mom laughed. "No, not a dog. I'm having a baby—a baby boy."

Rose-Ellen exchanged an ecstatic grin with Bethany. She had never been around a newborn baby before. In her excitement, she scarcely heard Aaron's softly spoken words, but they settled upon their home like a blessing.

"God is good."

oooOOooo


End file.
